


You're My Starlight

by spookyboywithspookystories



Category: VIXX
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Blood, Boys Kissing, Gay, Hanahaki Disease, Internal Conflict, M/M, Milky Way filming, Pining, Platonic Relationships, Possible Character Death, Sad, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Surprise Cameo, The author doesn't know how it will end yet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:22:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 13,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22199314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookyboywithspookystories/pseuds/spookyboywithspookystories
Summary: Pink was an entity that haunted Hongbin, living behind his eyelids, hiding like a waiting predator.  The colour tackled him whenever he was alone, digging its claws into his flesh, soaking into his bones.  The colour would flood his sense of self with an intensity that would bring him to his knees, filling his brain and senses.  If anyone had asked, he would assure them he knew what pink smelled like, what it felt like.  He was almost sure at this point that if he were to bleed, it would no longer flow crimson but pastel pink.  Hongbin had quickly started to hate the colour, wishing he would never have to see it again.  It was a colour associated with love, which made him laugh bitterly.  It was the colour of the hoodie he had been forced into, and the outfit theme for the video being filmed.
Relationships: Jung Taekwoon | Leo/Lee Hongbin, Secret - Relationship
Comments: 12
Kudos: 12





	1. Pink

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone, Gemini here.
> 
> Please be kind, this is my first published fic in years. I intend on it having a few more chapters at least, but I'm not sure where the end will go for now. Please forgive me if I have messed up the VIXX timeline, as I am a relatively new Starlight. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy. :)
> 
> Follow me on twitter: scoobygyu
> 
> Hanahaki Disease is a fictional disease, in which flowers grow in the lungs of someone who believes they are experiencing unrequited love. The disease can be cured by the flowers being removed surgically, but the feelings are removed with the flowers. It can also be cured by the feelings being returned. If the disease progresses, eventually the victim will suffocate.

Pink was an entity that haunted Hongbin, living behind his eyelids, hiding like a waiting predator. The colour tackled him whenever he was alone, digging its claws into his flesh, soaking into his bones. The colour would flood his sense of self with an intensity that would bring him to his knees, filling his brain and senses. If anyone had asked, he would assure them he knew what pink smelled like, what it felt like. He was almost sure at this point that if he were to bleed, it would no longer flow crimson but pastel pink. Hongbin had quickly started to hate the colour, wishing he would never have to see it again. It was a colour associated with love, which made him laugh bitterly. It was the colour of the hoodie he had been forced into, and the outfit theme for the video being filmed.

“Hongbin-ah, stop glaring at the mirror. The pink theme is cute. You look cute.” Hakyeon pranced across the dressing room to the grumpy visual, abandoning the spot where he had just been fluffing Sanghyuk’s hair. The leader adjusts the hood of Hongbin’s outfit, smiling brightly over his shoulder. The stupid hoodie didn’t even have normal sleeves, instead having both short and long sleeves layered atop one another. Hongbin did not agree with Hakyeon, to any degree.

“You don’t get to say that, hyung, your sweater is a much nicer colour.” Hakyeon was practically wearing red in Hongbin’s opinion, and it wasn’t appreciated. Sanghyuk snorts from across the room where a hairstylist is fixing Hakyeon’s muddled work, flattening his fringe.  
“Keep quiet, maknae-yah,” Hongbin twirled to squint at the tall man, “Your shirt isn’t any better than mine.” The snark in his tone didn’t lower Sanghyuk’s smirk at all, his eyes dancing with mirth as he tried to stay still for the stylist.

“If you complain too much hyung, I’ll just suggest they dye your hair pink again.” The words earned the maknae a scorching glare, and Hakyeon squealed, clearly agreeing with the idea. Before Hongbin could protest, however, had the leader speaking way too loudly into his ear.

“Oh yes, you looked so good with pink hair, Binnie-yah! The fans would love it!” At the end of the sentence, he leaned in conspiratorially,  
“I think we all like pink hair on you.” Hongbin’s eyes widened at the suspicious wink he received, mutely turning back to his reflection, ignoring the leader’s obvious jab. It took him a moment to remind himself he needed to appear happy in this video, which wasn’t common in music videos.

In the mirror, he took a moment to examine every member getting ready. Hakyeon was beginning to get hyped with Jaehwan, Sanghyuk was in the final moments of being released by the stylist, and Wonshik and Taekwoon were sitting on a small couch next to the door. The manager was speaking quietly with them, saying something Hongbin couldn’t make out over Jaehwan’s loud vocal exercises, while Taekwoon rested his head on Wonshik’s shoulder. Hongbin’s eyebrows furrowed a slight degree, before quickly returning to his normal poker face. His blank visage did nothing to match Taekwoon, his ability to cover his reactions famous, but Hongbin needed to portray the happy visual he was hired to be.

Swallowing hard, ignoring the tension in his limbs, Hongbin shook himself out of the thoughts. They were minutes off stage, off filming a video that needed to be perfect, and he refused to ruin it. Hakyeon clapped his hands together as a symbol to gather, all five other band members joining him in the centre of the room. Words of support and encouragement escaped Hongbin’s ears as he tried not to look at the man in the striped charcoal grey and pink sweater, standing right across from him, and failing.

Taekwoon’s hair, which was currently a shade between red and brown, offset the pink shade well. He looked handsome, too handsome, wearing such a horrific colour. Hongbin’s jaw tensed, his knuckles cracking as he fiddled with his fingers, he needed the day to be over. Hongbin’s eyes raised from the sweater, instead getting stuck on the shade of pink which graced Taekwoon’s lips. In the back of his mind, he thanked whatever divine forces existed that Taekwoon was preoccupied by Hakyeon’s words to notice. Sanghyuk, however, was not nearly so oblivious, and snuck a pinch to Hongbin’s side.

The quick flinch of pain shook Hongbin out of his trance, his eyes flitting to where Hakyeon was starting to usher the rest towards the stage door.  
“Pay attention, Bean.” The probably evil maknae whispered, dragging him along by his pastel pink sleeve cuffs, Jaehwan and Wonshik crowding behind them.

“Now everyone, remember: don’t fall off the platform, don’t look too grumpy,” a look is sent to Taekwoon, “and don’t embarrass me.” Hakyeon’s smile was wide and bright, contrasting his prior sass, one hand settled on his hip. The other band members groaning in response, they prepared to greet the fans who were waiting.

The performance passed quickly for Hongbin, interacting with fans and generally fooling around with the other five men on stage. The exhilaration and anxiety reducing his memory of the time on stage to mere moments: Hakyeon pulling on his ears, Hyuk and Hongbin piling on top of Taekwoon only to be crushed by Hakyeon, Taekwoon hiding behind his sweater sleeves, Taekwoon hugging him from behind and biting his shoulder. That specific display of affection had pushed his world on a tilt for a second too long, before he regained his self control. Hongbin refused to reveal his feelings, not in front of Taekwoon, not in front of the fans, not in front of anyone. Hakyeon and Sanghyuk be damned, they would never know the extent of his emotions.

Hongbin may have roughly abandoned the hoodie on the floor as soon as possible, changing back into a comfortable oversized black t-shirt. He was almost free, almost at the point where he would have alone time at the dorm. Hongbin easily ignored the attempts at conversation from the other members with a shake of his head, they knew how he could get after shows, and so he was left alone. The car ride was filled with a soft level of noise, Jaehwan unable to stay silent with his leftover energy, but being respectfully quiet as he drove. Wonshik would offer a soft answer from the passenger seat whenever necessary, Hakyeon watching over the conversation with pursed lips. Hongbin’s head naturally fell against the window as Sanghyuk rested on his shoulder. Taekwoon had settled next to Hakyeon, eyes closed and headphones in. Hongbin wondered for a moment if he was sleeping enough lately, watching the vocal breathe softly.

Sanghyuk shot him a knowing look, this time less mischievous, more filled with a soft pity that wasn’t appreciated. Hongbin didn’t need to be pitied, he just needed sleep and time alone. Filled with the feigned assurance of his own wellbeing, he broke the eye contact, returning to watching the cars pass by. He could stay strong in their presence, he had to.

Usually Jaehwan is the first to get to the door, still buzzing until he can calm down in private, but this night Hongbin won the race. He could feel Hakyeon’s questioning glance digging into his spine as he immediately rushed into his room, isolating himself. He thanks all divine forces once again that he has his own room, surrounding himself in his own type of comfort, and nothing more of that awful pink.

A shaky breath escaped Hongbin’s parted lips, his eyes closing tightly as he finally allowed his mind to take over. Flashes of pink dug into his pupils as he pressed his palms against his eyelids, sliding down with the door at his back. Hongbin finally allows himself to think about the way Taekwoon looked today, smiling, acting silly with them all, pink. The inevitable cough dug its way through Hongbin’s chest, climbing out his esophagus with a vengeance. His eyes watered in pain, as his throat protested the familiar feeling, attempting to cover his mouth with his hand. The coughing fits were lasting longer each time, and Hongbin was sure he’d be discovered soon. He’d fallen ill perhaps a month before, he remembered as his torso shuddered with exertion, when Taekwoon smiled at him shyly for a compliment on his cooking.

The shaking softened, and the coughing trailed off, but Hongbin’s eyes stayed closed for an extra minute. He knew what he would see, he could feel them escaping his hand. He peeked through squinted eyes, sighing with a deep grief as he was proven correct. His hand had failed to contain the pink petals, which attempted to suffocate him every time he thought of Taekwoon. Each petal was delicate and gently curling at the edges, too beautiful to be in that haunting soft pink, just like Taekwoon. Rhododendrons, he’d discovered in the early days, were the flowers impossibly plaguing his chest cavity. The flowers signified danger, and caution, and the irony at the message made him chuckle with bitterness. Hongbin dropped his hand with no reverence, petals dropping to the floor, wiping his mouth harshly with the other. Hanahaki disease wasn’t supposed to be real, and Hongbin wasn’t supposed to fall for a member of his band.

Hongbin never wanted to see pink again, for the colour was already eating him from the inside.


	2. Fancy Seeing You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gemini again, feeling fairly pleased with this. I believe I am delving into never before seen ships, scoping out unknown territory. Wish me luck. 
> 
> Hope you like the surprise Deborah ;)

The coughing fits were getting longer in duration, Hongbin pondered as the clock on his phone showed that he had been out of action for nearly six minutes. His chest raised and lowered intensely as he caught his breath, petals dropping down the sides of his torso onto the bedspread. 

As much as he couldn’t stand the soft shade of pink that claimed his nightmares, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the very things killing him. His hand slowly raising to grab a specific petal, no different from the others in form, but as he twisted it a flash of red made his heart stutter. Hongbin’s mouth, already feeling like he had been eating sand, somehow became ever drier as he stared wordlessly. The growth was progressing, and now the petals were speckled with quickly drying blood. A sigh left the dry lips as he sat up on his bed, scrunching the petals together into a tight ball that was subsequently placed in his hoodie pouch. The toilet had become his go-to method of hiding his illness, but the kitchen bin would do every now and then. The bin would have to be his saviour this time, as Hongbin could hear Wonshik’s shower singing ring throughout the dorm. 

Evening was falling through the windows, and Hongbin watched as the street lights turned on automatically in the dusk. The sounds of Hakyeon and Jaehwan bickering over something childish, lip balm by Hongbin’s guess, rounded the corner into the kitchen.

“Hey Bean, can you please tell Hakyeon-hyung that lip balm should not be shared?” Jaehwan’s signature pout surfaced, and he leaned over the kitchen bench towards the man who had begun making tea.

“My dongsaengs,” Hakyeon trilled, pressing emphasis on the word, “should share everything with me. Secrets, worries, dreams, lip balm. It’s just the duty of the leader.” He mocks pressing a fist to his heart, biting his bottom lip dramatically as Jaehwan sticks out his tongue. Hongbin looks between the two, raising an eyebrow in a judgemental expression. 

“It’s not very hygienic,” he mutters quietly, not wanting to get into the argument. Hakyeon wails loudly about the lack of loyalty as Jaehwan steals the kettle from Hongbin, pouring the boiling water into his own mug first with a smirk. 

Sanghyuk waltzes in, looking way too dressed up for an evening at home, taking the focus away from Hongbin. Hongbin, in return, steals the kettle back with a glare, as the present hyung-line interrogate the maknae who is realizing his mistake in entering the room.  
“You’re looking very,” Jaehwan pauses to choose his words wisely, “sensual, tonight.” Hakyeon sidles closer, peering at the tall boy’s face.

“Are you wearing eyeliner?” The leader arches an eyebrow with an unspoken threat, daring him to lie.

“Yes, I’m going out, my friend recommended a night club to me. Apparently it’s very private.” Sanghyuk sighs firmly, knowing exactly where Hakyeon is going with this, and knowing he is unable to fool the all-knowing N-jumma. Hakyeon’s smile widens with venom, looking at Hongbin in his pajamas and Jaehwan who won’t stop prodding Hyuk’s styled hair.

“Then let’s all go, family bonding time and all.” The suggestion is met with two groans and an excited squeal, with Jaehwan’s dangerous level of energy coming to a peak as he runs off to rouse Taekwoon.

Sanghyuk’s face is sour when he turns to Hongbin, who is staring at his tea like it will give him the answer to existence.  
“Is it a gay club, Hyuk?” The visual mutters, barely audible even though the maknae is stood right next to him, starting to smirk.

“Of course it is Bean, what do you take me for? An amateur? It took enough baiting to get Hakyeon to force you all to come, I’m not going to waste my effort on anything less.” Hongbin nodded, subdued, humming to himself as his thoughts of maknae trickery were confirmed.   
“It might do you some good in any case,” the tall boy winked and nudged his shoulder, before stomping away to finish his fake-tantrum. The visual sipped at his tea, it was too hot, but he would be dragged away from it too soon to let it cool.

Hakyeon returned promptly and ushered Hongbin into his room, demanding he change into ‘suitable’ clothes. With no small amount of grumbling, his eyeliner is reapplied, recently dyed black hair mussed fashionably and lip tint swiped on. Trailing his hand across his clothes, Hyuk’s words repeating in his head, Hongbin decided to dress for the occasion. Ripped black skinny jeans, a tight black shirt and a lightly studded leather jacket were his final picks. No one in his band had ever brought someone back to the dorm, nor had any of them formally ‘come out’ to the others, but he doubted that the majority of them were straight. Hongbin was above bringing someone to their home, but wasn’t above going home with someone else if it came to it. Anything to forget the feelings that wrapped around his throat and were dragging him to an early grave.

His feet dragged across the carpet as he joined the other members, energy differing from each member. Sanghyuk’s now obviously too fake pout, Hakyeon patting him on the shoulder with similarly fake sympathy. Wonshik appears confused at the turn of events, wearing some sort of colourful t-shirt and jeans combo with a cap covering his still wet hair. Taekwoon wears a scowl, but his outfit appears well thought out. In fact, almost completely matching Hongbin’s, excluding the white tank top he was wearing. Jaehwan is tapping his foot with impatience as he grips Hongbin’s hand, dragging the visual towards the door.  
“Took you and Taekwoon long enough, it’s not a fashion parade. Plus, you’ll never outshine me.” He doesn’t even spare them a glance as he storms towards the taxi-van Hakyeon had called, allowing the others to follow in varying stages of amusement. 

As Hongbin surveys the members from the back of the van, he smiles softly at the antics shown. Hyuk is bickering with Hakyeon once more, who has turned around in the passenger seat to neck chop him. Wonshik has subdued Jaehwan with videos on his phone, and Taekwoon had settled on Hongbin’s right. When he notices this, he tenses slightly, his thigh wanting to jerk away on instinct. Hongbin swallows, he can’t be that obvious around the vocal.

Wonshik, for all his big talk, blushes when the club comes into view. Taekwoon doesn’t even appear to have noticed, staring out the side window into the night. The other three cheer, leaving Hongbin to sigh at their excitement. It can’t come as a surprise, with the songs they’ve performed, that they enjoy some hedonism.

Jaehwan almost skips his way to the back door of the club, Hyuk hadn’t been lying about the level of privacy, and smiles brightly at the security guard. Sanghyuk nods at the other man, who is even taller and more muscular than the giant maknae, as he opens the matte black door. Thudding bass lines spill out onto the pavement like smoke, and Hongbin stops himself from shuddering at the music choice. At Hakyeon’s insistence, he takes tentative steps into the claustrophobic club, blinded by the flashing coloured lights.

Wonshik tastes the initiative and makes way for the bar, ordering drinks for all six men. Sanghyuk stalks off to do something - try to get laid probably - as Hakyeon commandeers a table from a man who had been sitting alone with sheer charisma. The leader flashes the members a winning smile as they take their seats, observing the dance floor. Wonshik returns with the drinks, concoctions that smell vaguely poisonous, which draws the tall maknae back.

“Drink up everyone, tomorrow is our last free day for a while,” he grins and tosses his head back, Adam’s apple bobbing as he gulps.   
“Might as well have fun with it.” He shrugs without much intensity and leaves once again. Hakyeon seems to agree, rising quickly to make himself known on the dance floor. Hongbin notices Taekwoon hasn’t said a word the whole time, which isn’t out of character, but still shows his obvious discomfort at the situation. He raises his drink to the vocal, offering a silent cheers, who returns the gesture and sips meekly before turning his eyes to the dance floor. 

A tall muscular man who looks a little too much like Wonshik approaches, smiling coyly at Jaehwan, who stands and prances forward. Childish as he may be, the smiley man knew what he was doing in places like this. Wonshik chokes a little on his drink, he was always flustered by the forwardness of some of his fellow members - a fact they often used to set him off. He turns, scandalized, towards Taekwoon and Hongbin.

“Guess they aren’t playing around tonight,” he starts, “do you guys just want to get drunk with me?” Shaking his near empty glass in questioning, ice cubes clinking. Hongbin shakes his head quickly, knowing that ‘drunk Bean’ is ‘emotional Bean’, and he is right next to someone who shouldn’t see that. 

“I’m going to go find Sanghyuk, or something.” He trails off as he stands, not wanting to spend more time alone with Wonshik and Taekwoon. Something about seeing them together always made his stomach twist, and his lungs ache. Hongbin had come to the club with a purpose, and Sanghyuk would kick him if he didn’t even try.

The bar is busy when he arrives, people surrounding him in every direction. The crowd jostled him as it moves forward, and someone stumbles into his back.   
“Oh gosh, I’m sorry,” the soft voice spoke. Hongbin turned to peer over his shoulder, the only amount of movement possible, as he flashed a dimpled smile.

“That’s okay, I’m not doing much better.” He addresses the man who is slightly shorter than him, but still well built and lean. The man’s lower face is covered by a face mask, his eyes sparkling as though he were smiling. For all Hongbin knew, the man was. 

“Let me buy you a drink, to make up for it.” The eyes smile even further, with sculpted eyebrows making the man look dangerously enticing. The offer caught Hongbin’s attention, as the club’s atmospheric smoke swirled around the stranger.

“If you insist,” Hongbin’s dimples are flashed again as he smirks. The man is still being pressed against his back by the crowd, but he remains in a respectable posture, merely placing a hand on Hongbin’s back to keep track of him.

When they reach the bar, the man orders Hongbin’s vodka and coke, and a tequila shot for himself. The man beckons the visual towards a further corner of the club, towards a free table, multiple tables covering the distance between Hongbin and his band members. When the man sits, he draws the face mask down to hang below his chin, and raises his eyes. As both men assess each other closer, they find their eyes widening in surprise, small smiles forming.

“Taemin, I should have known.”

“Hongbin, I should have recognized the dimples.” Hongbin smiles at this, Taemin chuckling good naturedly.   
“I’m guessing you’re all here? Damn Wonshik, he’s not meant to see me in a place like this. You know how he gets.” Hongbin snorts, knowing exactly what the dancer was talking about, and turns to indicate where Wonshik and Taekwoon are sitting. He realizes his mistake quickly, when he observes Taekwoon swaying towards Wonshik with a drunken flush, and Wonshik wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Hongbin knows he must have scowled, because Taemin taps a finger to his chin.  
“That bad, huh?”

Hongbin looks at the drink, swirling it in his hand.   
“You don’t know the half of it.” A soft hand cups his cheek, raising his gaze, and he finds Taemin’s eyes are full of sympathy. Hongbin doesn’t know how, but he knows Taemin understands enough to be comforting. With a sigh, he leans into the soft caress, leading to Taemin’s thumb stroking his cheekbone. Hongbin blinks at the soft expression the older is wearing, before a wave of courage overtakes him.   
“But,” he swallows, “I’m willing to forget.”


	3. If The World Was Ending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter name chosen from the song recommendation by my first commenter on both chapters, @undernightsky. I don't know you, and you don't know me. But your support is appreciated, and the song absolutely works for it. Good choice :)
> 
> The song is at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zb_IOQhHvsE
> 
> Please continue to support me, whoever is reading this, I hope it's making you feel things.
> 
> ~Gemini (twitter: @scoobygyu)

Vodka is a sorrowful drink, Hongbin thinks, one for people lying to themselves. The taste sticks as he darts his tongue across his bottom lip, reaching up to hold the hand placed on his cheek. Drunken confidence could not completely hide the fear of rejection in his eyes, as Taemin leaned closer delicately.

“Then I’m willing to help,” the plush lips pause inches from his own, before pressing gently to Hongbin’s. Both mens’ eyes flutter closed, eyelashes brushing against soft skin, as the kiss traps them. There is a gentle desperation in the way Hongbin seeks more pressure, wrapping his arms around Taemin’s neck. The dancer pulls back, leaning his forehead against Hongbin’s.  
“May I help you?” His eyes are entrancing, looking into Hongbin’s soul, before kissing him again. This second kiss, although still slow and respectful, was much more than the first. Lips intertwining as the visual climbs into the elder’s lap, seeking comfort in the careful affection. Two strong arms wrapping around Hongbin’s ribcage feels like safety, as a tongue presses against his closed mouth. 

At Taemin’s unspoken hinting, Hongbin parts his lips in invitation, craving this more than he had known. The embrace both breaking down his emotional barriers, and intoxicating him to no end. The older man’s hands pull him closer, pressing their chests together. The reciprocated contact, the want, making Hongbin’s chest ache.  
“Do you want to come home with me?” The older man slides his hand into the hair at the back of Hongbin’s neck, tilting his head in questioning. The visual swallows down the lump in his throat, nodding shyly, looking away to locate his fellow band members.

Hakyeon was happily dancing too close with a man wearing a sheer crop top, glitter gracing the pretty man’s eyelids. Sanghyuk was nowhere to be seen, which was to be expected for that sinner. Jaehwan had the Wonshik-lookalike nibbling on his ear at the bar. Hongbin inhaled deeply, turning to see Wonshik whispering in a blushing Taekwoon’s ear, his jaw becoming tense. 

“They don’t need me,” the visual turns back to the dancer, “I’ll text them later.” 

The taxi ride was silent, save for the quiet music playing from the radio. Hongbin may have not have been drunk, but he could have believed he was when Taemin’s fingers intertwined with his own. He could understand how Wonshik would be friends with the gentle, yet bright presence of this man. It was hard not to blush in his presence, Hongbin chewing on his bottom lip as he realized the situation he was getting into. His hand was squeezed gently to bring him out of his thoughts, Taemin pulling him out of the taxi.

The apartment was fairly spacious, much more so than a dorm fitting six adults. The pristine white tile floor made him rush to remove his boots, before examining the lounge room he’d entered. An elegant white leather couch took up the centre of the floor, facing a large television and sound system. Hongbin felt the muscular arms wrap around his waist, directing him to walk towards the couch before pushing him to sit. 

In the soft cold light of the apartment, Taemin’s body was accentuated. His loose silk blouse, messily tucked into his jeans, exposed his sculpted chest and distinct collarbones. The shade of blue contrasting his blonde hair, which fell over his eyes. The face mask was thrown on the coffee table before the dancer sat next to Hongbin. 

“Are you still okay with this?” The soft caress on Hongbin’s cheek made him sigh contentedly, nodding into the hand which seemed incapable of hurting him. Another hand gripped his waist and pulled him onto the older man’s lap, thighs straddling the man’s body. The position was anything but innocent, but all that the older man did was draw him into a tight embrace. Hongbin’s nose nuzzled into the crook of Taemin’s neck, the soft hand on his cheek moving to stroke his hair. Small kisses were placed over the angular jaw, up the sharp cheekbone and further to Hongbin’s temple. The elder was patient, worshipping the fragile man in his arms.  
“Whenever you’re ready, Hongbin-ah.” The affection in his tone soaked into Hongbin’s skin and wrapped him in warmth, the knowledge that he was being cared for overtaking his mind.

“I’m ready, Taemin-hyung, please.” The last plea was soft, but needy. If Hongbin had time to examine how he was acting, he was sure he would be embarrassed, but he was no longer in control of himself. The famous wide smile returned to the dancer’s face, reassuring the visual, as the firm touch of hands moved to pull off his jacket. The studs clattered against the floor, but the sound was distant to Hongbin’s ears as his shirt was slid over his shoulders. The appraising eyes made a flush rise up his neck, his fumbling fingers reaching to unbutton the blue silk shirt which felt heavenly against his bare skin. 

As more smooth skin was exposed, the fabric slipping down the broad shoulders, Hongbin fought back the thoughts of another pair of broad shoulders. Pressing his lips against the angular jaw, his mind returned to the beautiful man who wanted him back. Taemin’s hands were warm as they blindly examined the muscles of his back, digging in his nails when Hongbin bit into the flesh of his throat. Both men were too careful of the silence to groan, both exhaling shakily when it became too much. The bitten back whines clogging Hongbin’s throat as nails raked down his spine. 

“Ah, hyung, please,” the plead was barely spoken, more a sigh than words. Teeth suddenly dug into the muscle of Hongbin’s shoulder, making his back arch in both pain and pleasure, his hips rolling out of instinct. The silence is broken by Hongbin’s whine, and Taemin’s soft chuckle into his skin. His continued bites lessen in strength, trailing back up to the visual’s reddened lips. The hunger for intimacy could be felt in the way they both grasped the other closer, understanding through the connection how much they needed each other at that moment. Tongues greeting each other in what is now a familiar dance, biting into the soft lips and hands tangling in hair. 

Hongbin could feel Taemin’s excitement under him, and ground down experimentally. The hitch of breath on his lips leading him to repeat the action, slightly harder. Hips moving in tandem, Hongbin’s hair was tugged back to reveal the column of his throat. Small, bruising kisses sucking into his throat, igniting the hunger in his body further. As fingertips trailed down the harsh line of his abdomen, tracing the light hair trail above his waistband, a ring tone made both idols halt in place. 

Taemin leaned back from where he had been creating another love bite, Hongbin lowering his head to huff at the destiny he was doomed to have. Hakyeon’s cockblocking was legendary, his timing impeccable, and frustrating. The phone is helpfully taken from his back pocket and pressed into his hand, by the man underneath him, who was failing at hiding his smile. 

“Depend On Me? Really?” The soft voice questioned, as Hongbin considered not answering the call.

“Hakyeon-hyung likes to remind us that we would die without him.” He mutters flatly, swiping the ‘accept call’ option.  
“Yes, hyung?”

“Yah, Binnie-yah, greet your hyung with more respect!” Hakyeon’s slurring was a bad sign, probably going to interrogate Hongbin over the phone.  
“Where are you? Taekwoon said he saw you leaving?” Hongbin’s throat itched, and he stood up off the other man, clenching his free hand in anxiety.

“I left with someone, it’s okay, hyung.” Hongbin’s lungs began to ache at the thought of Taekwoon seeing him leave with Taemin, holding hands, kiss-bruised lips. He needed to hang up, needed to escape this line of questioning, needed to hide in the bathroom and clear his throat.  
“I saw Chan-sik, and we wanted to go play video games. I’ll be back at the dorm in the morning.” 

“But Taekwoon said-” 

“Hakyeon-hyung, I’m in the middle of the game, I’m sorry. I’ll explain tomorrow.” As he hung up the call, he noticed he was starting to hyperventilate, familiar scratching crawling up his torso. His ears were ringing too loudly, his eyesight blurring, for him to know what Taemin was doing. The coughing began even faster than usual, the discomfort of what felt like butterflies escaping his chest en masse bringing him to his knees on the tiles.

As the petals spilled out of his lips, into his palms and onto the pristine floor, a warm hand began to pat his back softly. Barely registering the other man soothing him, the flowers continued to choke him, spit running down his chin as he gagged. The other man crawled to cradle Hongbin in his arms, stroking his hair and back as the coughing fit began to trail off. 

The visual pressed his eyes and lips closed, wishing he could take back the entire night, as the dancer picked up a single petal.  
“How long have you been dealing with this, dear?” The soft voice making him lean back into the firm chest.

“It’s been about a month and a half, but it’s getting worse every time.” Taemin hummed sadly behind him, picking up another completely bloody, crimson petal.  
“They never used to be like that, they used to be pink.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I...do not know how or why I tried to write a sad make out scene, but there you go. Please tell me how it went.
> 
> Thank you!


	4. Baby, I'm A Wreck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, I do know Taemin is only a few months older than Hongbin, but he's still technically a hyung.
> 
> I also do not care if my timeline makes sense anymore, Taemin in Want is what I was picturing. I don't even know what era Hongbin I'm thinking.
> 
> This chapter's name is from Sunflower.

Hongbin woke up in someone’s arms, soon remembering who they belonged to. Burrowing further into Taemin’s chest, he wiped away the tears he must have shed in his dreams. The night before, breaking down in the arms of the other idol, should have been mortifying; somehow though, the warmth surrounding him, and Taemin’s soft shushing had soothed him to sleep.  
Hongbin stares at the still bare chest of the dancer, watching his steady breathing rise and fall. He wonders if breathing with unobstructed lungs feels how he recalls, or if he’s forgotten so quickly. The older man’s arms tighten around him as Taemin begins to awaken, his nose scrunching slightly.

“Morning,” the rough edge giving his tone a soft domesticity.  
“Feeling better?” The eyes open to a squint.

“Morning,” Hongbin mumbles, “I’m sorry for falling asleep on you. For the other thing too.” The visual’s hand moving to rest on his own chest, gripping the flesh softly.

“You don’t have to apologize to me for anything, dear. It’s not something unknown to me.” The handsome man’s face looks so sad for a moment, his mind getting lost in the distance.  
“I’ve known people who suffered the same.” Taemin doesn’t offer a name, but Hongbin won’t ask. Such a compromising, visceral illness is a personal topic. A disease based on secrets and broken hearts. Hongbin wonders what happened to the victim, but doesn’t want to deepen the sorrow in Taemin’s eyes.

“Are you going to tell me to get surgery, hyung?” For such a deep voice, and such a tall man, Hongbin feels miniscule in this moment. At the mercy of someone he had only met a few times, and had never thought to talk to. 

“That’s not my decision to make, dear.” The dancer’s eyes smile softly as he draws Hongbin back into his embrace, petting his hair.  
“I know you wouldn’t listen to me anyway.” A brush of lips at Hongbin’s temple make his eyes glaze with unshed tears, holding in the sobs that feel like grief. Whether it is grief for himself, or for what Taemin has clearly seen, he doesn’t know.

As the sun rose, illuminating the messy bed, the two men unfurled.  
“I have to go back to my dorm before Hakyeon wakes up, or I’m a dead man walking.” Hongbin realizes a second too late how much truth is in his words, but Taemin doesn’t comment on it. The older man simply ruffles his hair, wiping eyeliner stains off his cheeks.

“I’ll call you a taxi, feel free to borrow some clothes.” 

Wearing an oversized hoodie and sweatpants, Hongbin trudges down the stairs with Taemin at his heels. 

“Hongbin-ah, I put my number in your phone.” The older man seems unsure of his words for the first time as he pauses.  
“You don’t have to text me, but if it gets really bad and you need help, please call me.” Hongbin’s dimples pierce his cheeks, smiling shyly at the dancer.

“Thank you, hyung, for everything.”

Unluckily for Hongbin, Hakyeon is the devil. A devil who wakes up too early, even with a hangover. 

“Lee Hongbin-ah, dongsaeng, liar.” His sharp eyes sparkle at the drama of the situation.  
“Are those hickeys I see?” His teeth shine in the early morning sun, which peeks through the window in voyeuristic curiosity. 

“Hickeys?! Bean got laid!” Jaehwan screeches, sliding into the room on socked feet. His hair is hilariously messy, clearly having just woken up, perhaps roused by the smell of drama. 

“Nice work, Bean-hyung,” Sanghyuk stumbles in, just to add to Hongbin’s assumption that it’s ‘pick on Hongbin day’. Hakyeon clearly is amused, but wants to add his own thoughts before the conversation gets too complimentary.

“I didn’t know you had that sort of friendship with dear Gongchan.” He smirked, knowing well that it wasn’t Chan-sik, throwing Hongbin to the drama sharks surrounding them. Sanghyuk has the grace to look scandalized, while Jaehwan just grins and nudges the visual with a sharp elbow.

“How long has that been going on? Is that why you’ve been moping around?” Hongbin’s cheeks colour at indignation, disgusted by the thought of going anywhere near his friend like that.

“Obviously it wasn’t Chan-sik, and I didn’t get laid.” His deep voice pushes them both to silence as he turns to leave the room, pausing for a moment, and then storming past the confused Taekwoon and a sleepy Wonshik.

“What was that about?” The rapper’s voice fades away as Hongbin shuts himself into his room. The mirror on the door of his closet presents an unfortunate picture. Hair half flattened by sleep, dark shadows under his eyes, hickeys covering his throat. A soft knock breaks his self assessment; he immediately knows who is at the door. Jaehwan and Sanghyuk don’t knock, instead screeching, Hakyeon knocks loudly while yelling, Wonshik usually forgets to knock. 

“What’s up, hyung?” Hongbin opens the door a tad, peering through towards the vocal.

“Hakyeon-hyung says that today is also for ‘family bonding’, and he wants you to get dressed.” The quiet voice is melodic, yet he sounds tired. His feline eyes dart to Hongbin’s neck, and back to his face. His expression doesn’t change, but his eyes show judgement.  
“You’ll want to cover those up, we’re going out.” 

Hongbin shuts and locks his door this time, not wanting to deal with anything more. He considers telling Hakyeon that he’s feeling ill, but doubts that the leader would allow him to stay home. Still, he has no patience for the outside world today, and decides to try his luck.

The visual walks slowly towards the leader’s bedroom, the door already open, and enters. Hakyeon’s back faces him as he picks a shirt off a hanger.

“Hyung, I’d like to stay home today.” The leader sighs, with sass ready at his tongue, but stops when he turns. Hongbin supposes he must look even worse than he imagined.  
“Please, I’m not feeling well.” He bows his head a little, not a fan of confrontations with the ever interrogative N-jumma.

In an extraordinary display of kindness, Hakyeon decides to be merciful.  
“Fine, but don’t expect me to allow this again!” His eyes narrow as he turns back to his clothes.  
“Get some rest, and don’t spend all day playing video games.”

When the noise of the band finally leaves the dorm, Hongbin is curled up in his bed. The duvet is raised over his head, and he likes the darkness it brings. Something about being trapped under the blanket, and the pitch black, makes him wonder about the afterlife. Hongbin ponders the possibilities of consciousness after death, and what it would be like to know that you’re dead. He wonders if it feels the same as now, when he knows he’s dying.

He doesn’t often get time to himself, past when he’s violently expelling petals from his mouth, and so it hits him like a brick wall. Hongbin is going to die, for loving Taekwoon. His body is going to tear itself apart, to punish him for being unlovable. Taemin’s soft touches and gentle words seem so far away now, a brief respite from the hell he’s in. Hongbin wants to scream at himself for wasting his chance with the man, being unable to love someone who wanted him. He wants to scream at himself for loving someone unattainable, someone who would never have spoken to him if not for the band. He wants to scream at Taekwoon too, but he’s not sure what for. 

The sound of a text message gets him to check his phone, a photo sent to the group chat. The rest of the members appear to be at a park; Jaehwan has strands of grass in his hair as Hakyeon neck chops Sanghyuk. Wonshik is a distance away in the background, laying on the ground. Taekwoon doesn’t even look at the camera, instead looking off to the left. Hongbin wishes he could hate the vocalist, wishes he wasn’t okay with dying for him. He wishes his members didn’t look so happy without him. The thought makes him kick himself, as he was the one who insisted on staying home, and he would never wish for them to be sad.

The coughing starts as he stares at Taekwoon’s beautiful face, and he watches in horror as his phone screen is spattered by wet blood. His throat feels like it’s been torn open, over and over again, yet the petals don’t come. He retches, curling in on himself, gagging and clawing at his chest. Blood sprays from his lips onto his bed spread, tainting the white sheets, as he feels like he’s going to fall unconscious. Slowly, the feeling of a mass being dislodged and journeying up his throat makes his head spin, lack of air kicking in. 

The mass finally gets spat out onto the bed sheets, and Hongbin’s pale face breaks into even more tears. He was now coughing up whole flowers, and leaves.


	5. I'm Ready To Get Hurt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I know there are other songs that fit the idea too, but these are what sprang to mind. 
> 
> Sorry, bit of a useless chapter I know, but we needed some introspection.
> 
> Not my favourite bit of writing, but maybe it'll substantiate a bit.
> 
> ~Gemini

Hongbin’s eyelashes were heavy with tears, staining his cheeks further with each blink. His eyes have glazed over completely as he sobs, hiding in the darkness of his room as his phone blares music. Taekwoon’s strong vocals make his limbs prickle, memories of the tall man filling his eyelids. As much as he resents the songs for making him cough up bloody flowers, the lyrics dig into his mind like rose thorns. 

On and On was one of the most entertaining shoots they had done, everyone goofing with the shirtless-inside-a-rocket concept. Hongbin hadn’t quite yet realized the full extent of how he would lose himself for Taekwoon, but that day of shirtless awkwardness definitely cemented a crush in the younger’s heart. There had never been a time where he wasn’t flustered by Taekwoon’s ethereal looks. 

The playlist shuffles onto Error, and Hongbin’s tear stained face pulls into a cruel smile. Everyone was so enamoured by the concept: forbidden love, losing someone you love. Not even Hongbin had realized at the time that it was less painful than it could’ve been: at least the girl had loved the engineer back. Taekwoon had suited the burgundy hair so strongly, it was beautiful on him. Everything always was.

Another warm tear drips down the visual’s chin, pooling in the dips of his collarbones, as Hyde starts playing. Hongbin laughs bitterly, knowing he could rant for hours about how good Taekwoon looked with long black hair. The lyrics sting, reminding him about how little control he has of his own body. Remembering how he had to act like wings were about to burst from his body. Hongbin understands that pain now.

The playlist shuffles again, and Wonshik’s intro lines to Voodoo Doll play. That era was difficult for Hongbin, his acting methods overtaking his mind, easier to just settle in the idea of insanity. The idea of being controlled, full of love in a broken situation, going to hell and back for someone who may not be healthy for you. Being stuck in that glass box had been bad for Hongbin’s mentality, leading to him isolating himself for days afterwards, not wanting to see anyone. Taekwoon had been the one to coax him out of hiding, with soft words and a peace offering of tea. 

Another coughing fit shakes the weak man to the core, as Fantasy begins to play, and Hongbin starts to choke out flower after flower. The leaves, surprisingly sharp, have sliced up the inside of his throat. The visual wonders how much blood he has coughed up in the past weeks, spending every night curled up in bed, crying until he can’t see. His phone is low on battery, but if he touches the device, he’s sure he’ll call for Taemin in weakness. 

The older man had made it very clear that he was willing to support Hongbin, but the deep sadness that had lingered in the man’s eyes made the visual stop himself. Hongbin knew when he had discovered the disease that he wasn’t going to get the surgery, and Taemin knew that nothing would change his mind. The visual had instead decided to deal with the problem on his own, not causing the other to suffer in his presence. Taemin was far too gentle and sweet to have so much blood on his hands. 

Hakyeon was clearly disappointed in how Hongbin had been acting lately, watching him closely whenever he was in sight. Hongbin was sure he suspected something had happened after the night at the club, and in a way, he wasn’t wrong. The leader was luckily too preoccupied with reconnaissance to complain about Hongbin’s constantly locked bedroom door, and his self-enforced isolation. He hadn’t even yet commented on the weight the visual was clearly losing, his cheeks becoming more gaunt as he became more pale. 

Jaehwan had all the subtlety of an elephant, but even he knew not to ask. Perhaps Hakyeon had spoken to him, Hongbin considered. The bubbly hyung still encouraged Hongbin to come out with them, trying to hype the visual up during dance practices and rehearsals. The attempts were usually met with a subdued smile, and a weak attempt to match the man’s energy. Hongbin wasn’t sure if it looked as pitiful as he felt, but Jaehwan kept trying.

Sanghyuk had always looked like he knew something, that was just his normal expression, but his searching eyes were digging deep lately. The maknae didn’t seem sure of whatever he contemplated, but he was acting oddly quiet in Hongbin’s presence. That on it’s own told Hongbin that Hakyeon had told them all to behave. Sanghyuk’s tendency to try and shake information out of the members being restrained was a great relief to the visual. The tall man however vibrated with a nervous energy, his restraint clearly wearing thin. Hongbin could relate, sure that his body was wearing thin.

Wonshik seemed conflicted, always opening his mouth to say something and then immediately closing it. The behaviour was starting to annoy Hongbin, who would just sigh and walk away. The dying man didn’t want pity, but he also didn’t want to deal with people who couldn’t get to the point. The rapper never seemed to come up with the right words, and Hongbin couldn’t remember the last time they had actually spoken.

Taekwoon was, as always, a different story. He had never acted like the rest of the members, but this was his finest work yet. While everyone else seemed to be having a crisis over the visual, the vocal acted exactly the same. The taller man was the only member who could keep his eyes to himself when Hongbin entered a room, the only one who hadn’t encouraged him to eat more at a meal. Hongbin wasn’t sure if that was better, or worse, than the man reacting.

Would dying hurt more if Taekwoon acted like he cared?

Hongbin hadn’t been able to throw away the steadily increasing number of flowers leaving his chest, not for a week or two, and there was a collection in a shoe box under his bed. The smell of dried blood was slowly escaping the cardboard confines, swirling with the scent of rotting flowers. He would have to dispose of the evidence as soon as possible, he decided, as he shoved the most recent additions into the stained box.

His dying phone trilled, a message from Taemin checking up on him. The visual wiped the blood off his chin as he realized, all he was doing was prolonging the inevitable. Typing a quick ‘I’m fine, hyung’, his mind spiralled. Anyone he got close to would have to watch him die. Anyone who knew him would be invited to his funeral. The withering man laid on his back, tears still racing over his cheeks every now and then. He had put up with so much pain, for Taekwoon’s sake, but the vocalist didn’t seem to even notice or care. There were methods of curing the illness, they were the first thing he had researched. He had the number Taemin had saved in his contact list for a surgeon. He had Taemin’s personal number, if he felt like asking for help. He had a band almost full of people who clearly were suffering because of him. 

Hongbin had to do something.


	6. You Gaze A Hole In Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gemini here.
> 
> It's finally happened. Woo. Get excited. Now I should sleep, so you are all safe from my horrible goblin brain for a few more hours. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this slightly shorter chapter.

Sanghyuk’s eyes flicker up and down, from Hongbin’s face to his hands. His hands which are covered in gore and flowers. The maknae’s jaw seems to realign as he blinks multiple times, stuck between being proud of finally catching him, and shocked at the truth. Hongbin’s body was still shuddering as he tried to hide himself from the taller man, turning away from him.

Sanghyuk had clearly been planning this, picking the lock of Hongbin’s door while all other members had gone out. Hongbin knew the man was regretting his actions, wishing he could go back to before he knew his friend was dying.

“Hyuk-ah,” Hongbin rasped, his voice had been degrading quickly with the violent attacks. The maknae had thought it was a simple cold or flu, but now he knew better, seeing the pieces of tissue decorating his hyung. Focusing on dance more recently, he had been seeing Hongbin slowly become more and more weak, but Sanghyuk imagined that it would have been much more obvious had they been singing.

“Binnie-hyung,” the tall boy closed the door behind him as he walked closer.   
“Binnie-yah,” he dropped the formalities with his best friend, “why didn’t you say something?” 

Hongbin’s shoulders had stopped shaking, but he still had his back to the maknae, wishing desperately to turn back time.  
“It wouldn’t have changed anything.” The maknae deflates, raising a hand to stroke his friend’s messy hair. 

“There are ways to fix this, Binnie-yah.” 

“I know.” The answer was short, but still exposed just how ruined the visual’s throat was.

“You’re not allowed to die, Hongbin-ah. I won’t let you.” The tall boy wraps his arms around his friend’s waist, his eyes glazing over with hot tears.  
“If you don’t get it fixed, I’ll tell Hakyeon-hyung.” The visual hysterically shook his head, weakly trying to escape the embrace. His bloodied lips spilling hoarse pleas to not tell anyone, that he couldn’t bear it if anyone else knew. Sanghyuk hugs him tighter, neither man even addressing each other anymore.  
“You’re not allowed to die.” 

Sanghyuk becomes much more insistent on keeping Hongbin company after that, becoming a witness to the attacks regularly. The younger man isn’t an expert on the disease, the disease so uncommon that some people still thought it was a myth used in fiction, but he knew Hongbin wasn’t getting better. 

Hakyeon seemed pleased that the visual had finally let someone in, even if it wasn’t him, and backed off slightly. Hongbin was also let off the hook somewhat by Jaehwan, with Sanghyuk instead becoming his personal motivator. The maknae hadn’t taken back his threat of telling the leader, but seemed like he trusted Hongbin for now. The visual himself, spending time orchestrating his plan to deal with the situation. 

Wonshik and Taekwoon were still distant in their own ways, Wonshik writing music at the studio, Taekwoon just being himself. Sanghyuk would narrow his eyes suspiciously at any interaction between the tall vocal and the visual, as though they were confirming his thoughts. Hongbin hadn’t told him who it was, but Hyuk wasn’t dumb. The maknae tried not to presume too much as his best friend ran to the toilet straight after Taekwoon stopped speaking to them, nor when he saw Hongbin’s eyes trail after the taller man. 

Taekwoon was a fascinating creature to Sanghyuk, with his expressions so reserved and cold. Initially the maknae had been scared of him, but with growth spurts and brattiness, that didn’t last long. One of the many things he had never seen Taekwoon do is become involved with someone, the man solitary and rarely affectionate. Whenever he was affectionate it was with Wonshik, who didn’t seem to care, or Hakyeon, who had forced his affection on them all. Sanghyuk wasn’t even sure what Taekwoon being interested in someone would look like, making him keep his mouth shut to Hongbin. 

He wasn’t going to tell a dying man to go after his killer, when he wasn’t sure if the killer loved the dying man back.

Hongbin had been looking more relieved lately, like the conflict in his mind had eased. Sanghyuk decided to take it as a good sign, trying to ignore the increasing regularity of coughing fits. His best friend wouldn’t die, not for someone who didn’t notice how much he was suffering. Hyuk hated the flowers, more than Hongbin did, helping him dispose of the evidence with a severity. No one should ever see so much blood coming from their best friend.


	7. The World Is Ugly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING TRIGGER WARNING TRIGGER WARNING
> 
> I don't like spoiling what is effectively a 'surprise', but this may be upsetting to some people. Anyone prone to mental illness, self destructive ideation, anything like that - please proceed with caution. I will be updating the tags to suit the caution level.

Hongbin was staring at his reflection. Someone who didn’t know him may have mistaken it for narcissism, but his eyes were anything but praising. If he looked hard enough, he could see the plantlife filling his chest. The ache had been spreading across his torso, and he wondered if the roots were finally reaching for his other organs. His fingertips were stained with ink, dried blood under his nails, from every thought he had been documenting. 

The mirror portrayed a ghost, pale and sad, fading away daily. The visual wondered if he was even alive still, or merely being held up by the slightly protruding shapes wrapping around his ribcage.

The small notebook was being filled with varying brainwaves, from wishing the disease were cured, to wishing for the pain to end in any way possible. Little messages he wished to tell his fellow band members randomly appeared within the text, in case he’d never be able to tell them himself. 

Reassurances of love, how much he valued each man individually, apologies. Reminding Jaehwan to never let the cruel world steal his smile, no matter what happened. Soft words to Sanghyuk, to not be angry if the worst came, and that he was everything a best friend and little brother should be. Thanking Hakyeon for being the best leader they could have asked for, and to never lose his spark. Confessing to Wonshik about Taemin’s secret friendship, the dancer’s kindness, and apologizing for being so distant. Confessing to Taekwoon.

Confessing to Taekwoon was the hardest part, the pages drizzled with a mix of blood and tears. Hongbin wasn’t sure whether his plan would work, whether he would live or die. The visual had accepted the tall man’s coldness, and his distance, with a gentle resignation. The angelic vocalist was too good for anyone, he knew, especially Hongbin’s tainted grasp. The younger man couldn’t imagine anyone reaching Taekwoon, attempting to win his heart, without the image becoming drenched with sorrow. Any being who came into contact with Taekwoon would only ruin his perfection, staining his purity. 

Sanghyuk had been reassured by Hongbin’s easier smiles in recent times, praying his friend would make the right choice. Hongbin didn’t feel there was a choice.

Perhaps that’s the paradox of hanahaki, Hongbin considered. You wonder if the pain in your chest is the plant growth, or perhaps your heart being torn to shreds. You love the person enough to die for them, and so you let yourself fall further. Every minute with your love being made so much more precious with the limited time, as you relish in their presence. Perhaps that’s why Hongbin hadn’t even considered the surgery; loving Taekwoon felt like dying anyway.

The surgery was tentative with results, some people reporting that the effects could be negative. If the victim healed badly, they were no longer able to feel any romantic feelings at all. Some even reported the flowers returning before long. Hongbin couldn’t picture how it would feel to lose that yearning when the quiet man entered his thoughts; would it feel fine, or empty? 

The notebook varied from legible and illegible Hangul, some words trailing into others, some starkly crossed out. Hongbin wondered why Sanghyuk hadn’t raked over every part of his bedroom yet, an action that didn’t seem far fetched. The maknae’s denial of the terminal possibilities, and hopeful glances, made Hongbin’s heart clench. He was making everyone suffer with his selfishness, his stupidity. 

Five bloody flowers lay around the idol as he stared at his own hysterical writing, lips parted with trailing blood as it raced down his chin. A sixth sat in his hand, poised delicately between his thumb and index finger. The visual felt roots move inside his torso, painful and searching. 

Hongbin wondered what it was like to not be in constant pain, somewhere in the back of his delirious mind. As the sharp roots dug deeper, making the man groan in excruciating pain, he placed the flower in his mouth and swallowed. Swallowing down the five others, choking between the rising blood, the short inhales, and the ingested flora. Hongbin smiled, welcoming the suffocation which had arrived at last. The man, who had become as delicate as a flower, hugged the stained notebook to his chest.

After all, beautiful as they may be, rhododendrons are poisonous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If that got you a bit hard, don't hesitate to reach out to someone - a helpline, family, friends, even me if necessary. Someone out there values you, I promise. 
> 
> No this isn't the end of the story.
> 
> ~Gemini


	8. Can't Control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all are doing okay.
> 
> Sorry for making you and the characters suffer.

The man in Hakyeon’s arms was too pale, too cold, his lips tinged blue. Hakyeon’s voice wavered as he wailed, yelling at everyone and no one to do something, anything. The leader couldn’t understand why no one was doing anything, couldn’t understand why no one was helping his baby. The boy he had watched grow up from a shy teenager, to the sarcastic yet loving man he knows, and now he was watching the same man fall further out of his reach. Hakyeon’s tears dripped onto the pale cheek as he held the man closer, hoping that his love could bring the man back.

Sanghyuk was kneeling on the bed beside his leader and best friend, babbling incoherently to the unconscious man, whispering and begging him not to die. His worst fears realized as he grasped a lifeless hand between his own, squeezing the ice cold digits as a lifeline. The maknae had known, but hadn’t told anyone, had trusted the obviously suffering man to make the right choice. A stained notebook was digging into the tall man’s knee, ignored for the moment.

Jaehwan was silent, and still. The door frame held him up as his knees threatened to buckle, his knuckles white as he held onto the wood. He had seen Hongbin getting skinnier, had been worried about the man, and done nothing. The usually bubbly man felt as though the world went cold, unable to tear his eyes away from the limp shell that was his dongsaeng. Hakyeon’s mournful screams couldn’t penetrate the trance Jaehwan was in, spiralling into the back of his mind where he had known something was wrong. He should have known that it was this bad, he should have done more. 

Wonshik had his hand gripping for dear life on Jaehwan’s shoulder, just as stunned by the sight that had greeted him. The rapper wondered when he had last actually spoken to the younger man; when had he last asked how the man was feeling? After that night where he and Taekwoon had witnessed Hongbin leaving with his long time friend, then returning in Taemin’s clothes, Wonshik just hadn’t known what to say. He hadn’t said a single substantial thing as he watched the other man waste away in front of him, in a room metres away from where his own. The only thing that had been controlling his thoughts is the confusion about seeing Taemin with Hongbin, distracting him from the younger’s obvious pain. Pain that Wonshik could clearly see now, emanating from each man gathered in the entire darkened bedroom.

Taekwoon was roused from sleep by his leader’s screaming, and rushed towards the source of the noise. His feet thudded against the linoleum flooring as he was stopped by the sight of Jaehwan and Wonshik, standing as though they were statues, and the sound of his leader and maknaes’ pleading voices. There was a prominent presence missing from the equation, the man who lived in the room they were occupying. The tall vocalist was spurred back into action by Hakyeon’s voice cracking, his feral screeching throwing daggers into Taekwoon’s chest. Wonshik and Jaehwan were shoved out of the way harshly, both men appearing to awaken from their trances as Taekwoon stormed into the small room. The sound of the two men fumbling to call an ambulance fading into the background as Taekwoon took in the pitiful sight, his breath catching. 

Hongbin was lifeless, lips blue and eyelids lilac. Hakyeon’s hands cradled his face with desperation as he rested his forehead against Hongbin’s, rocking them back and forth. Sanghyuk was gripping Hongbin’s hand, holding it to his chest as he mumbled nothing that made sense. Taekwoon pressed a hand to his own chest as he tried to calm his breathing, stepping forward shakily until he was at the side of the bed. The vocalist’s trembling fingers reached towards the visual’s neck, feeling for a pulse that he almost didn’t expect. His adrenaline-fuelled response barely helping to him calm down, his hands shaking too much to discern if there was any life left in the smaller man. 

The vocalist’s eyes felt painfully dry, like they always did when he wanted to cry, but he wouldn’t let himself for Hongbin’s sake. Hongbin needed someone to be pragmatic in this situation, someone who could act logical. His hand went to his own sweaty forehead, hair clinging to his skin as he turned to Wonshik.

“How long until the paramedics get here?” Taekwoon snapped at the rapper, who was staring at his phone blankly. Wonshik’s response never reached Taekwoon’s ears, as at the sound of the vocalist’s voice, Sanghyuk had been shaken out of his pleading. The maknae’s head whipped to the vocalist who sat in front of him, as he muttered the most world shattering words Taekwoon had ever heard.

“You killed him. You killed Hongbin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still not over.
> 
> ~Gemini


	9. I'm Getting Farther Away From You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More sadness, more content. 
> 
> Title from B1A4's Tried To Walk.
> 
> Shout out to Hana, love you dork.

Chan-sik and Taemin made eye contact across the room, avoiding looking at any of the various distraught men around them. The two idols standing away from where the five sat side by side in hard plastic chairs, the silence broken up by soft sniffles. Taemin had been called by Wonshik, who had somehow realized the dancer was closer to the visual than he knew. The dancer tilted his head to indicate that he and Chan-sik should give the band time alone, the idol following him out of the hospital waiting room. 

The dawn was approaching, both men stifling yawns as they stood in the chilled breeze. Taemin assumed Chan-sik had also been violently awoken by a phone call in the prior hours, given the tentative news that Hongbin was being taken to the hospital. By Chan-sik’s confused expression, the man hadn’t been able to see the visual either, Taemin pondered. 

“You know what’s wrong with him, don’t you?” It was phrased as a question, but the singer seemed sure of what the answer would be. 

“Hongbin has Hanahaki,” Taemin started carefully.  
“He’s dying.” Chan-sik stopped the dancer from continuing with a curse, his eyes dropping to the floor. 

“Why didn’t he tell me?” Taemin’s hand came to rest on the distressed man’s shoulder, trying to form an explanation.

“People with the disease, they often don’t like telling people. Sometimes they think it’s a punishment they deserve, or some simply lose the will to fight it. Most of the time they just don’t want people to worry about them, thinking that if no one knows it’ll be easier.” Chan-sik opens his mouth to protest, finding the thought process flawed, but Taemin stops him.  
“I know it doesn’t make sense to you or me, it may not seem logical, but it could be the reason. The illness relies on your heart being broken, and then breaks it further. The cures aren’t always successful. Hongbin probably thought this was his only option.” The dancer gestures at the hospital doors, eyes sad as he attempts a soft smile. 

The other idol seems to look in the direction of the band who are waiting for news, blinking back tears.  
“They don’t know, do they?” Chan-sik’s voice wavers, his frown deepening as Taemin shakes his head. 

“Maybe someone does, but they don’t seem to. None of them have said a word, I was the one that told the nurse at the front desk.” Both men look away from each other, words left unsaid in the air as they both take in the moment.

Sanghyuk suddenly steps through the doors, taking both men by surprise. Taemin makes eye contact and suddenly understands, knowing, pulling the tall man into a hug.   
“It wasn’t your fault, darling,” the dancer whispers, swaying the now sobbing maknae in his arms.   
“You couldn’t have stopped him.” 

Chan-sik watches the shorter man embrace the wailing man, tears threatening to fall, reaching up to stroke the maknae’s hair. All three men curl into each other, the two older men silently crying as they soothe Sanghyuk. Taemin knows the truth in his words, being a witness to his childhood friend’s dismissal of the illness and subsequent demise, yet he still feels guilty. Perhaps he should’ve told Wonshik, he thinks, and mentally shakes his head. He knows Hongbin wouldn’t ever have agreed to the surgery. 

Sanghyuk feels tiny in the arms of the two older men, being shushed and held carefully. He both wants to storm in and punch Taekwoon, yet seek comfort from his hyung. He wants to shake Hakyeon for not forcing answers out of Hongbin, yet be held by the leader. He wants to scream and cry at the world, at Hongbin for not listening. Sanghyuk isn’t sure what he’s angry at, isn’t even sure that it’s anger he’s feeling, so he lets himself be embraced.

In the waiting room, Hakyeon has Jaehwan’s hand in a vice grip, refusing to let go for a second. The leader’s voice lost after his screaming, he is forced to sip at a bottle of water by the band’s manager, who looks exhausted. Both men squeeze the other’s hand until it’s painful, eyes distant and unseeing. Neither has uttered a word since the ambulance arrived at the dorm, following Hongbin on the stretcher as close as they were allowed until he was taken away. 

Wonshik is seated next to Jaehwan, hands squeezing his own thighs roughly. His feet tap against the floor restlessly, his muscles individually tensing and relaxing as his mind races. What had happened to the man he thought of as his soul mate, one of his closest friends? Why was he unconscious and not breathing, blood smeared over his lips? Had he taken something? Was he sick? How long had he been laying there before Hakyeon found him? Wonshik dug his nails further into the flesh of his legs, chewing on his lower lip. Why had Sanghyuk blamed Taekwoon?

Taekwoon had his head in his hands, unable to look at anything but the pattern of dirt on the floor. The vocalist hadn’t spoken a word since Sanghyuk’s outburst, his lips parted in shock. Sitting in the waiting room of the hospital was giving the man plenty of time to repeat the accusation over and over, trying so hard to understand. What had happened to Hongbin? How was it Taekwoon’s fault? His fingers tugged at his hair, hoping to be awoken from the nightmare he seemed to be living in. One of his dongsaengs, one of his closest friends, had been close to death in Hakyeon’s arms. The man could be dead right now, Taekwoon realized with a full bodied shudder. Was Sanghyuk telling the truth? Could it possibly be his fault? 

The doctor that had initially greeted the group walks back in with a grim line set to his jaw, his eyes trailing over the young men before walking to the manager. Taekwoon managed to raise his head, watching the men discuss in hushed tones before the doctor walks away once more. Hakyeon stands, pulling an unsuspecting Jaehwan with him.

“What’s happening? How is he? What’s wrong?” Every word the leader had been keeping in finally flying out, not giving the man any time to respond. The tired looking manager raises a hand to halt the questions, telling the members that he would fetch Sanghyuk before anything was said. 

The four men stared at the space the manager had left, before turning to each other. Hakyeon’s voice seems lost again as he makes eye contact with Taekwoon, questioning, worried. The vocalist can offer no reassurance as the manager walks in, the three previously absent men trailing behind. Taekwoon finally takes a good look at Sanghyuk, the maknae’s face taut and red with tears. Taemin and Chan-sik appear to be assisting the younger man in walking, who allows himself to be pulled along with no resistance. 

“Hongbin is still unconscious, they’re giving him oxygen therapy. There’s not much else they can do for that specific issue without his awake consent.” The managers eyes are directed towards Taemin, who refuses to look away from Sanghyuk. Sanghyuk nods minimally, leading the manager to continue his statement.   
“Who here knows?” Taemin, Chan-sik and Sanghyuk all look towards the man, who sighs wearily.   
“I’ll let you three explain that, then. The other issue with Hongbin is the effects of the poison, which is affecting his heart. They’re trying to reverse those effects, but we can’t be sure for now.”

Every pair of eyes seem to widen as the word ‘poison’, including three who seem to have their entire bodies shaken. The manager steps away, four men looking intensely at the other three with accusation. 

“One of you tell me what the hell is going on.” Hakyeon’s raspy voice seems so, so extremely exhausted and it makes Sanghyuk want to run away. Taemin, who had tried to seem so sure of himself, tries to force himself to answer.

“Hongbin tried to kill himself,” the only words the dancer can seem to bring forth. He had only seen his friend just fade away, accepting the pain, but not this. This hadn’t occurred to him as a possibility. 

Chan-sik feels suddenly out of place, being looked at for answers he didn’t have. His hand is still hovering where it had been on Sanghyuk’s back, who seems to be on the edge of a breakdown. There is nothing the idol can do but witness the six men in front of him tear themselves apart with guilt.

“Taekwoon-hyung,” Sanghyuk’s voice is soft and shaky. The vocalist returns the broken stare, waiting for the taller boy to continue.  
“Do you love Hongbin?” The question makes Taekwoon blink, certainly not what he had expected to hear. His mouth opens, but the man isn’t sure what to say to that. Not exactly sure what’s being asked either.  
“Because if you don’t, or if you’re not sure if you do, if he wakes up you’re telling him to get surgery.” The maknae’s face is covered with fresh tears, grasping Taemin’s hand tightly.

“I-” Taekwoon can’t seem to form words, still not quite sure what’s happening. 

“If he dies, hyung, I’ll break every bone in your body.” The younger man is shaking with both rage and grief, his teeth clenched so tightly his face is stuck in a snarl. Taekwoon can’t seem to say anything more, his entire body seeming both numb and prickly.

“Han Sanghyuk, tell me what is going on right this second.” Hakyeon leaves no room for argument, his harsh tone berating the maknae.

“Hongbin has Hanahaki,” the younger man smiles tearfully.  
“He loves this oblivious bastard. Enough to want to die for him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who somehow symbolically made Hanahaki basically real life depression? This guy!  
> Guess who made his readers wonder if a character was going to die for two full chapters? This guy!
> 
> Sorry.
> 
> Also please tell me someone understands the symbolism I may have pushed onto the Hades concept pics. Please.
> 
> ~Gemini


	10. Depend On Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder that Yan An is a baby. Just putting it out there.

Seven men crowded around the hospital bed, none brave enough to touch the delicate body laying upon it. Hakyeon’s fingers twitched with temptation to brush the unruly hair off Hongbin’s forehead, yet afraid that his skin would be as cold as ice. The rhythmic beeping sets a frustrating atmosphere, making each man feel like they were just waiting for it to stop. 

Chan-sik pulls some of the chairs closer to the bed, sitting at Hongbin’s side. Grasping his friend’s hand, he breathed out softly. Hongbin wasn’t dead, he was alive and there was a possibility he’d survive. Desperation and hope filling his heart, the singer pulls Taemin and Sanghyuk to sit beside him.

Sanghyuk grasps Hakyeon’s hand, seeking comfort from his hyung and leader. The older man squeezes his fingers back, wrapping his arms around the maknae’s shoulders. The leader’s eyes searching for Taekwoon, standing next to the doorway, facial expression as though he had seen a ghost. 

Taekwoon couldn’t tear his eyes away from Hongbin where he lay, oxygen mask and IV line making the man seem so broken. He was entirely broken, Taekwoon realized with a gulp, and the vocalist hadn’t done anything to help. Of course the older man had seen something was wrong, Hakyeon had made them all promise not to overwhelm the visual, and it wasn’t subtle. To think it was Taekwoon’s fault the whole time; every time he had stopped in front of the locked door and not knocking, every time he had turned a blind eye to the weight loss and dull eyes. 

The near bruised eyelids and bloodless lips were a haunting sight, filling Taekwoon’s heart with chilling guilt. Each of Hongbin’s ribs was visible through the thin hospital gown, with shadows that Taekwoon now knew were roots, wrapping around bone and taking over anything they could reach. The vocalist’s eyes stung, finally breaking through the shock into immense pain. He had only been trying to respect Hongbin’s privacy, his clear boundaries drawn as a line in the sand. As he felt Hakyeon’s worried gaze, his eyes blurred with cruel tears, obscuring Hongbin further. 

Sanghyuk made a threatening noise in the back of his throat as the vocalist approached, hunching further over the visual protectively. In Taekwoon’s favour, Hakyeon pulled the maknae back further into his chest, holding the boy close. Wonshik and Jaehwan parting like the red sea to allow the silent man forward, hoping there was something that he could do. 

Taekwoon sat in a chair, feeling Sanghyuk’s glare across the bed. Long fingers trembling as the vocalist reached forward to stroke Hongbin’s cheekbone softly, exhaling shakily. 

“I’m sorry, Hyuk-ah. I thought I was doing the right thing,” a tear dropped onto the white bedsheets.  
“I just wanted Hongbin to be comfortable, I thought he would ask if he needed help.” Every man in the room winces at the words, the sentiment shared.

“It’s not me who you need to apologize to,” the maknae whispers, no longer looking at the vocalist. Taekwoon’s lips twitch into a sad smile as he caresses the unconscious man’s cheek softly.

“Yah, Hongbin-ah, you’re so silly.” The vocalist laughs sadly, heart broken. Wonshik pats Taekwoon’s shoulder sympathetically.  
“How could I not love you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter I know. And yes, once again I didn't reveal what will happen. I am terrible and awful and enjoying myself so much. 
> 
> But, finally some things are revealed. Don't blame Taekwoon too much, he thought he was doing what Hongbin wanted. They're all good boys, just very sad and bad at communicating. 
> 
> ~Gemini


	11. Please Come Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have returned. Sorry, I got messed up over figuring out the ending. We will see.
> 
> Sorry it's short ;P
> 
> ~Gemini (@scoobygyu on twitter)

The air conditioning was always too cold in hospitals, Taekwoon decides. The temperature doing nothing to aid the visual, his skin constantly covered in goosebumps as he lay motionless. Three days had stretched by slowly, each band member taking turns to spend time at the hospital. Upon entering the small closed off room, Sanghyuk rose from his seat with an obvious stiffness. The maknae hadn’t been so actively hostile lately, instead resigning himself to avoiding eye contact and hesitant words. The divide was doing nothing to soothe either man, and Taekwoon ached to reach out for his distant dongsaeng. 

“Get some sleep, Hyuk-ah.”

“You too, hyung.” 

The staff had allowed the band to sneak in a fold-out futon, laying it haphazardly before the uncomfortable chairs whenever sleep called them. Taekwoon knows that it isn’t healthy for the five men to be moping around, waiting for Hongbin to awake, but it seemed a small price to pay so he could hold the cold hands in his own. 

The vocalist had taken to resting his forehead on Hongbin’s chest, listening to the stuttered breathing with ambivalence. The sounds were so choked and wheezing, but indicated the visual was still alive. The doctors had told the band not to be optimistic, each with a morbidly calm expression. Taekwoon resented being told he was waiting for Hongbin to die. 

The older man hums into the younger’s chest, remembering that bright dimpled smile which had become so much rarer in the recent months. Taekwoon breathes in, pressing his lips to the man’s palm softly. Silent promises of anything the visual wanted, apologies for not saying anything, everything left unsaid filled the air. He wondered if Hongbin could hear him, and if the man would even want to listen to him now. 

Wonshik had known the whole time, about Taekwoon’s apparent fondness. The rapper was the only one who had noticed, but the vocalist didn’t blame the other members for not realizing. Even Taekwoon knew he was not skilled at communicating his feelings, and affection was difficult to initiate, social anxiety constantly crippling the quiet vocalist. Hongbin had always seemed so bright and friendly, even with the endless sarcasm, and his presence intimidated the vocalist in the most beautiful way. Taekwoon felt guilty for basking in Hongbin’s light every single time. It had felt like tasting a forbidden fruit, as though Taekwoon was manipulating the younger to make himself feel better.

A doctor knocks, Taekwoon raising his head to the interruption. The middle aged official looks sympathetic, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“It’s you, sir, isn’t it? The illness?” The vocalist doesn’t respond, turning his eyes back to the patient.  
“There’s something you should know, I didn’t think the younger man earlier could handle the information.” Hesitation, a morbid warning.  
“We managed to stop the poisoning from doing anything too drastic, as we informed you all, but we’re still not sure if he’ll wake up. We are not sure what will happen if he does, either. His heart rate is fine but,” a sigh, “his lungs are practically destroyed. The roots have broken through the membrane, and have ventured further into his abdomen in most directions.” Taekwoon shakes his head, desperation evident.

“Please don’t say it,” he starts and halts, feeling dizzy.  
“Don’t tell me he’ll die, please.”

“If the Hanahaki is cured, it’s possible his lungs will collapse and fail. There is a lot of damage to his system. The other extreme is that if the Hanahaki continues, not even the force-fed oxygen will keep him alive. It is tentative, but there is a possibility that he won’t survive even if he wakes. I’m sorry, sir.” The doctor bows his head in apology.

Taekwoon’s tears splash onto the floor, his jaw slack and aching. The rhythmic beeping from the heart-rate monitor filling the cold silence.  
“Is there anything we can do?” The vocalist whispers, more to himself and Hongbin.

“If he wakes - and the disease is cured - if he can withstand waiting for a suitable organ donor, we may be able to transplant one of his lungs. Maybe even eventually replace both of them. Mr Lee would be fragile, health-wise before the surgery and also afterwards, but he would have a chance.” Taekwoon nods at the soft-spoken admission, chewing his lower lip in thought. Hongbin may survive, just maybe; if he does, Taekwoon would do the right thing this time. Taekwoon would treat the visual as he had always wished, making the younger man know how loved he was.

The vocalist presses his lips to Hongbin’s forehead softly as the doctor’s footsteps trail away, moving to nuzzle his cheek against the cold man.  
“Please wake up, Hongbin. Please. I’ll do anything you want, if you just wake up.”


End file.
